Bound and Determined

by Regina Jennings

  The day stretched long and hot before a town finally appeared on the horizon. “We’ll tether the camels under the trees there,” Father said. “And I’ll walk to town and buy us a hot meal.”

  “Why walk? Aren’t we staying at the hotel tonight?” she asked.

  “You can’t just ride your camel into town, or every horse in the area goes stark-raving mad,” her father said. “We’ll stay out here. Are you coming with me for dinner?”

  “I just want to get off this camel and rest.” Ambrosia wiped her handkerchief across her glistening forehead. “Are you sure you’re up to it?”

  “I’m feeling stronger every day.”

  When Omar stopped, all the camels stopped. Her father uttered some foreign word she’d never heard before, and the camels started pacing like dogs arranging their beds.

  “Brace yourselves,” he said. “It’s rough on the way down.”

  Ruby lifted her front foot and pawed at the ground. Then, as if satisfied that everything below was ready, she dropped to her knees, pitching Amber forward. Finally, Ruby leveled off and rocked gently, making herself comfortable on the leafy space beneath the trees. From there, it was a simple step off the beast’s back, and Amber had never been more eager to reach the ground.

  Private Willis gave a playful whoop as Melda came to the ground, too. He slapped her on the shoulder and gave her a quick scrub. For a cavalryman, he was adapting quickly to a horse substitute.

  Her father got Omar settled and then, with a tug on his hat, waved good-bye. “I’ll be back with some supper.”

  Private Willis stretched. “For the first time in my life, I’m happy to get out of the saddle.” He took the lead ropes and tied them to various branches on the trees to give the camels some room.

  At first Ambrosia’s legs didn’t want to straighten and her back felt stiff, but with a deep breath, she stretched her arms over her head and enjoyed the feeling of the blood working its way back into her extremities.

  Private Willis was smiling, but for once he didn’t seem to be ridiculing her. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

  She nodded as she unfastened her canteen from Ruby’s saddle and took a long drink from it.

  “Should we take off their saddles?” he asked.

  “I have no idea.” Safely beneath the shade of the trees, she untied the ribbons of her sunbonnet and fanned herself. “If it was up to me, I’d drive the camels off with a stick.”

  “And that’s why I stayed behind instead of going to town to eat a hot meal. I’m protecting your father’s investment.”

  Ambrosia set her canteen on the ground. “I don’t see how these things could make anyone money.”

  “Is he going to breed them?”

  “I hardly think so.”

  “I guess you could eat them. Or maybe you’re going to milk them? You wouldn’t even need a stool to sit on. You could stand up and—”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  “I’m not the one buying camels, ma’am.”

  She was too parched to argue any further. She picked up her canteen and held it to her lips. Something warm, wet, and disgusting touched her mouth. She spit in the dirt as she turned the canteen over.

  “I’ve been nice to you, and this is how you repay me?” She shook the canteen. “It’s empty, and you slobbered all over it.”

  “How did I drink your water? I’ve been talking to you this whole time.”

  “There was water in it when I set it down.”

  “You probably drank more than you thought. Maybe the heat is getting to you.”

  She was beginning to regret running off the cowboys. Now she was stuck with the only man in Kansas who had no sense. Amber pushed back her damp hair, frustrated at what a mess everything was. Private Willis’s face softened, and he held out his dented canteen.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  He rolled his eyes and snatched her canteen out of her hand.

  “You don’t have to refill it,” she said as she chased after him. “I can do it myself.”

  But he ignored the offer and picked up the water barrel. “What exactly is it you do when you’re not wrangling camels?”

  Watching him handle the heavy water barrel made her grateful that she wasn’t doing it herself, after all. She leaned against a tree and watched him at work. “Besides taking care of Father? Well, when he retired a couple years ago, we moved to Garber, Texas, and bought a nice town lot. Right away, Mother and I started planning our new house, from the newel posts on the front porch to the rose garden in the back. It was completed this winter, about the time Father went into his decline, and it is a marvel. Every stick of furniture and every stitch of curtains, drapes, and tablecloths, Mother and I chose.”

  “You ladies did that on your own?” He scrubbed at the canteen and rinsed it. “That’s quite an accomplishment. What’s next?”

  Good question. Ambrosia had been asking herself that, as well. “One thing I refuse to do is to dig up our beautifully designed rose garden for a camel pen. My mother has spent her entire married life moving from one government post to another. It’s about time she has a place to call her own, but those animals will ruin it.” The water glistened on his hands, making them smoother and darker. “Our new house is the talk of the town,” she said. “Just imagine if we started boarding camels there.”

  “I’m afraid it’s not if, but when,” he said. “But cheer up. With Omar and Ruby in your garden, you’ll have even more notoriety.”

  Was he laughing at her? She tamped down her irritation. He’d cleaned and refilled her canteen, after all.

  Once she’d had a good, long drink and arranged her feather mattress to sit on, she felt generous enough to converse.

  “And what about you and your family?”

  He took a seat and stretched his legs out in front of him. “My sister is the governess for Major Adams’s girls back at Fort Reno. They’re getting hitched this winter.”

  His sister was marrying his commander? No wonder he was fearless. “My father thinks a lot of Major Adams,” she said.

  “I do, too. Now, whether he thinks a lot of me . . .” There was that teasing again, but this time at his own expense.

  “Do you come from a military family?”

  His smile faded, as if he regretted the question but was determined to answer anyway. “I don’t come from any kind of family. My ma wasn’t what you’d consider quality, and I never knew my pa. It’s only me and my sister, but we’ve always taken care of each other.” He bounced one shoulder in seeming indifference, but she could tell it did matter to him. She could tell it mattered a lot.

  “Private Willis, I grew up at military outposts and have known a lot of troopers and officers.” He wasn’t meeting her gaze, but she held hers steady. “Where you come from before you put on the uniform doesn’t matter a jot. It’s how you handle yourself afterward.”

  He raised his eyes, and Ambrosia had never seen anyone as genuinely appreciative for something she’d said. Maybe she had something to offer him, after all.

  “I’m trying my best, Miss Ambrosia,” he said. “Trying my best to do my duty, even if it frustrates a strong-willed lady.”

  Before she could answer, he added, “And feel free to call me Bradley.”

  C

  hapter

  5

  The next morning found Bradley rested and excited. They would reach Indian Territory today and finally be in land he knew. He hadn’t expected camels, and he hadn’t expected Miss Herald, but he did know what to expect in the nation, and it was usually danger.

  The camels were sound sleepers, although they snored like Private Gundy when he had a cold. Judging from the birds stirring on the branches above him, daybreak was just around the corner. Bradley trailed his hand over the cool grass just beyond his blanket. He didn’t mind sleeping outside. It was cooler than in the hotel, and the ground probably had fewer bumps than the mattress. Fewer critters, too, if he had to guess. He reckoned Ambrosia was comfortab
le on her mattress, although she and her father had laid their bedrolls farther away from him and the camels.

  Bradley had rolled to his back to enjoy the sunrise when he became aware that someone was already up and moving. It was Captain Herald. Not wanting to get caught lying around, Bradley went to meet him.

  Bradley saluted casually. “Good morning, sir.”

  Captain Herald quickly lowered a flask and screwed on the lid. Bradley scratched at his chest. A stiff drink this early in the morning? He hoped this wasn’t a sign of a serious problem.

  “I apologize for not being up earlier and ready to go, but frankly I wouldn’t know what to do with these beasts,” Bradley said.

  Captain Herald surveyed the drowsy dromedaries kneeling by the stream. “I’d forgotten how peaceful they are. It’s like they’re telling us not to worry, everything will be just fine.”

  Bradley had seen the same expression on a cow’s face, but he didn’t give them any credit for intelligence. He halfway figured the captain was seeing the message he wanted to see. Fine by Bradley. It was nice having a captain who wasn’t worried about running a tight ship for once. No reason to march around all tense if you believed life would go on without you.

  Captain Herald motioned Bradley to follow as he made his way to each of the camels, murmuring a greeting and scratching them fondly on the forehead.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you get caught up with camels?” Bradley scrubbed on Melda’s neck and felt like she probably appreciated it.

  “Old Omar here was my mount when I was at Camp Verde, north of San Antonio. These were cavalry camels.”

  Bradley whistled his surprise. “The US Cavalry rode camels?”

  “Only a small number were in the Camel Corps, but we were proud. Ruby and Omar saved our lives back in ’60 when we were sent on a reconnaissance mission to map out the San Antonio–El Paso Road and the Rio Grande. We got caught in a rough canyon in July and couldn’t find water. It was over a hundred degrees in the shade—not that there was any shade available. There we were, wandering around, hoping to stumble onto some water. The mules died and the horses had to be abandoned, but the camels kept carrying us.” His eyes turned misty. “For two more days, we wandered with dry canteens, the camels never complaining. But then they did complain, and boy were we glad.”

  He gave Omar a playful slap on his haunch. “This old fellow’s sire started the grumbling. They’d never been rambunctious before, but they started pulling at their reins. We were too tired to fight them, so we gave them their heads, and you know what? These camels marched straight out of that canyon. Two miles off the trail, they found water. They’d been smelling it the whole time. Just had to wait for us to listen to them before they’d take us there.”

  The story taught Bradley something about camels, but maybe even more about Captain Herald.

  “Everyone survived?” he asked.

  “All the troopers and camels, yes. But time hasn’t been so kind to them. From what I hear, I’m the last surviving member of that expedition. Me and the camels.” Captain Herald’s chest seemed to get smaller. His breathing rattled as he absently rubbed Ruby’s forehead.

  The last one left? Bradley tried to imagine how he’d feel if he was the lone survivor—if Private Krebs, Morris, and Chandler had all been killed. That was what he’d been trying to avoid, wasn’t it? That was what had gotten him stuck with these crazy animals to begin with. But obviously these animals meant something more to the captain than livestock. More than an investment.

  “When I heard that these poor creatures were stuck on a farm in Kansas,” the captain continued, “I decided they wouldn’t winter here again. Got to get them somewhere warm. I owe them that.”

  “And your family? What do they think?” Bradley asked.

  Captain Herald gazed out at the early-morning horizon. “They don’t understand. I hoped that bringing Ambrosia along might bring her over to my side, but she’s as against it as she ever was.” He slapped his leg. “Well, we have a lot of ground to cover, Private. Time to get moving.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bradley hadn’t had a father, but he knew a good man when he saw one. Captain Herald was a fair man, and Ambrosia was a devoted daughter. Why were they working against each other, and what would it take to change Ambrosia’s mind?

  The sun was punishing, chasing them down, and there was no place to hide. Ambrosia switched her parasol to her other hand and tried to pull her sleeve down over her arm, but the gathered three-quarter sleeve wasn’t long enough. She’d packed this blouse for its light material, not for coverage, and her tiny parasol wasn’t doing the job.

  “If you wanted me to appreciate the camels, then a trip in the blistering heat wasn’t the thing to suggest,” she said to her father.

  “In the heat is exactly when you appreciate them the most. We wouldn’t be making this kind of time with horses. Besides, we’d have to bring along a mule team just to carry our supplies and water.”

  But his words floated over her head. She was finding it hard to focus. Everywhere she moved, she just encountered more heat. An innocent stretching of her leg brought her in contact with a piece of leather that felt like it was on fire. Changing her grip on the reins would burn through her gloves. Even Ruby’s hairy back seemed to radiate heat up at her. How many more days of this?

  She looked up to see Private Willis scanning the horizon. His face and hands were as tanned as any outdoorsman’s, but she’d wager that beneath his collar was skin as fair as hers. She caught herself watching for a glimmer of exposure, then chided herself. What did it matter? Another line of sweat ran down her own collar, reminding her that she was in no condition to draw a man’s interest. While her father generally stayed by her side, the trooper kept his focus far away. After all, he had a job to do.

  She moistened her dry lips and reached for her canteen. Even it felt toasty through her gloves. She lifted it to her mouth, but only a trickle leaked out.

  “Captain Herald, I think we need to stop for water,” Bradley said.

  Had he been watching her, after all? At her questioning look, Bradley rattled his own dented canteen, but she wasn’t fooled. He always had an eye on her.

  Her father said the word, and the camels halted their trek. “We still have two barrels of water,” he said as he directed the camels to kneel. “When will we reach the next stream?”

  “No streams are guaranteed in August,” Bradley replied. “We’ll make it to the Cimarron River tomorrow or the day after. I presume the camels will be all right?”

  “They haven’t slowed down yet.”

  “I could certainly use a break from the sun,” Amber said. Once she’d dismounted, she stomped her feet to get the feeling back and looked around her. Finally, they were off the camels and they could . . . they could . . .

  There was nothing. No trees, no shade, no diversion of any kind. Only the endless grass, burnt crispy atop the red, baked soil. Two days in the sun, just two days, and Ambrosia felt like she was drained already.

  How was her father surviving? At home, it seemed all he could manage was making it from the house to his seat in the garden. Now he had limitless energy.

  Bradley had unfastened a water barrel from one of the younger calves. He hoisted it to his shoulder and brought it over to her. Ambrosia tried to wet her lips, but they felt as dry as the leather saddle she’d helped her father make.

  “Canteen?” he asked.

  She unfastened it from Ruby’s harness. “Poor things. Are you sure they don’t need a drink?” she asked as she held out her canteen for Bradley.

  Her father answered. “If they did, we wouldn’t have enough to give them. They’ll make up for it at the river.”

  Bradley tipped up the barrel, and water gurgled into her canteen and splashed over her fingers and hands. Amber could have sworn that her skin sighed. She rubbed the coolness into her burning forearms, which stung at first, but as the water evaporated, cooled quickly.

  “That feels
good, doesn’t it? If we weren’t watching our rations, I’d dump this whole barrel over your head.” His eyes sparkled.

  “In any other situation, I’d take offense,” Ambrosia said, “but I think it sounds delightful.”

  Bradley laughed, and it was a good, hearty sound. With so much sorrow and worry in her house for the last months, Amber had forgotten the healing a strong laugh carried.

  She gulped down her water while Bradley went to offer her father a drink. Approaching the younger camels carefully, Ambrosia set down her canteen and found the sack of green apples she’d brought along. Riding in the heat had drained her of an appetite, but the fresh crispness of an apple sounded perfect.

  She removed one, then decided to get her father and even Bradley one, as well. She heard boots on the ground behind her. It was Bradley bringing the barrel of water back.

  “Do you want an apple?” It shouldn’t matter if he wanted it or not, but she felt like his accepting would be a gesture of goodwill.

  He looked her up and down, his grin growing.

  “What?” she said. “What’s so funny?”

  “If you’re not the perfect picture of temptation, I don’t know what is.” He stepped forward and took her hand right along with the apple. “Yes, I will take and eat.” His voice had grown frustratingly, teasingly husky. He was so close that the brims of their hats rubbed. Still gazing into her eyes, he dropped her hand, held the apple to his mouth, and broke the skin.

  Where had that chill come from? Anxious to break the spell, Amber ripped off a bite of her own apple. She shouldn’t read too much into the attraction that had sprung up between them. He was probably just toying with her. There was nothing else to do, after all.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I can ask, can’t I?”

  “You’re eighteen,” he said.

  “Eighteen and a half,” she replied. “Did my father tell you? And you didn’t answer my question.”

  “I’m twenty,” he said. “You make me feel older, and I didn’t ask your father. I just know things.” The way he held his mouth, that bottom lip . . .